The True Identity of HYDRA (ONE-SHOT)
by Uchiha Sasuke-kun
Summary: Random story. Title says it all. But I can guarantee you won't expect the ending, because truth is often stranger than fiction.


Author: weird idea that came to me.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm poor. If you sue me, you will have nothing. Because that is all I have to give.

All was silent. The cement brick walls dank and starting to crumble. Darkness filled the abandoned HYDRA base, the smell of mold and years of disuse making the air stagnant. Hardly breathable.

The cavern-like room was flooded, the water muddy and brown, with occasional debris floating by. Suddenly, the surface tension of the water broke and someone surfaced.

Sputtering, the man gasped for air, as the swim had nearly exhausted even HIS lung capacity. That man was none other than Steve Rogers. Defender of Justice, the Star-Spangled Man. The world's one and only Super Soldier. More widely known as Captain America.

Steve raked his hand through his wet blonde hair, taking a look around to get his bearings. This place was by far, long abandoned...yet something told him he'd come to the right place. Fury had tasked him with the mission of tracking down any remaining contingents of HYDRA, and eliminating them.

But he would soon find this mission would have a twist ending.

Turning at the sound of a splash behind him, he sighed in relief as he saw his fellow Agent, Natasha Romanoff surface as well. Removing the mouthpiece to her scuba tank, she slid the mask from her eyes, to her forehead.

"What a swim! Should've known YOU'D be able to make it without an O2 tank." She smirked, swimming up beside him.

Steve gave her an uncertain smile. "If I'm being honest..."

"You always are."

"Well, putting that aside...I was pretty much at my limit. I felt like my lungs were going to explode like a frag grenade! Haven't felt so desperate for air since my last asthma attack."

"You have asthma?"

"I HAD asthma...before I was the impressive specimen you see before you. Hard to imagine, I know." He shrugged.

"Were you shy, and awkward around girls back then, too?"

"..." He didn't answer, instead swimming toward the nearest point to what looked like a collapsed floor.

Natasha suddenly broke into a grin. "You were, weren't you! Good to see that hasn't chan-"

Steve held his hand up, motioning for her to be quiet before making military hand gestures to imply that he might have found something. Or at least a possible lead to something. A path, perhaps guiding them to somewhere they might be able to get some clues on where to head next.

Lifting himself up onto an iron rebar that protruded from the caved-in second floor, or 3rd. Or 4th even. There was no telling how deep the ground floor of this place was. Natasha followed suit, and the two wandered the dilapidated halls that felt eerily familiar.

The walls were falling apart, split by age and overgrowth. Plants peeked through the cracks and crevices in the plaster and insulation rolls peeked out every once in awhile. They looked through windows of doors upon doors as they did a sweep.

Drafting tables, records and files, a few conference rooms...even what appeared to be a break room, but when they attempted to search it the smell of mildew and rot overwhelmed their senses.

Choking, they quickly ran out of the room, doubled over. It was difficult not to retch at the hideous odor.

"Steve...where in the hell are we?" Natasha gagged.

A hand over his mouth, Steve shook his head as he focused his willpower into keeping his lunch down. Using the wall to lean on, his voice was low. "I dunno, Nat. My GPS isn't working...we must be too far underground. I guess we'll have to rely on the tried and true." Pulling out his compass, he frowned down at it.

"Leave it to you to get us wrapped up in a mission that requires your expertise at being an old man." She suddenly paused as she saw his scowl. "Steve, what's it say? Are we North? South? East or West?"

Holding out his hand, he inclined his head in invitation. "See for yourself."

Leaning over, she saw the needle just kept rapidly spinning in circles. Never stopping. Never slowing. "I've heard of compasses that malfunction when around an electromagnet, or a place where that kind of charge confuses the compass...but I've never heard of one spinning this quickly, or seeming so..." She tried to think of what seemed so off about it.

Luckily, Steve answered for her. "Magical. It's like there's an enchantment over this entire place."

Nat's brow furrowed. "I thought you didn't believe in magic."

Steve's eyes narrowed as he straightened to his full height and unstrapped the iconic shield from his back. Walking down the hallway, he turned to look over his shoulder. "I've seen a lot of things since I woke up in this era. Some that seemed like magic, despite there being a logical explanation...and some that simply defy any reasonable conclusion at all."

Following him, she took out a glock from her waterproof pack, ready to fire at any slight sound. This place was creepy. Like even the desks and chairs were watching. Like they knew by osmosis anything that was going on in this place.

The doors they passed were all similar. Looking through the windows, they saw many overturned drafting desks, pinboards, occasionally a computer room. Flecks of what might have once been brightly-colored paint were everywhere, but the figures had long faded into oblivion with the passage of time and neglect.

But something was off. Natasha couldn't figure out what it was, but it was almost like she saw flashes of the same image in every room. Every corridor. Subliminal hallucination, maybe?

There was no telling. But the darkness was offset by what looked like rays of moonlight, though they were clearly too far underground for moonlight to reach all the way down here.

Steve was right. This place DID seem magical. But not in the fairytale and happily-ever-after kind of way. It felt more like they were small children, exploring a condemned factory. Or a mental hospital.

Wherever they were...this was the place dreams came to die. The place where joy and innocence festered into bitterness and avarice. Where childhood fantasy made the metamorphosis into the disappointing reality of adulthood.

Steve held his hand up again, motioning toward a flickering fluorescent light down the hall. "That wing either has an independent power grid, or someone's here with a manually operated generator. The electricity has been off for awhile, if what we've seen is any indication."

Nodding, Natasha trailed behind him. She was a spy. A hero. A dangerous individual, for sure. Black Widow didn't get the heebie-jeebies. But then, why was she so hesitant to see what was down there?

Each step echoed, and with every stride, the pit in her stomach sunk lower. Whatever was down there...it was BAD.

Walking down to the flickering light on the ceiling, they turned to find a pathway of floor lights, the linoleum panels suddenly turning into carpeting that was far from worn. It looked almost brand new, whereas any other scraps of carpet they'd seen on the way here were tattered and burned. The walls as they cautiously crossed the threshhold were decorated with inkblot paintings. Faded cels with illegible bronze plaques beneath the glass panels, on the elegant varnished frames.

The rooms they passed were filled with high-tech computers and machines that were manned by pale men and women who looked like they'd never seen the light of day. All in HYDRA uniform. Steve tried to get their attention, but no matter how hard he pounded on the glass, no one even looked up.

Talk about unsettling...

They kept searching, finding more rooms filled with dazed accountants, gigantic processors and monitors, and the image kept appearing in the corner of their field of vision. But much like an eye floater, once they tried to focus on identifying it, it had vanished as if it never existed.

Eventually, they found a large, polished set of double doors that was wider than them both together, if they were four times bigger. It centered, and it bore the symbol of HYDRA, two round door knockers on each side, slightly above the symbol.

Natasha shuddered. "Let's get this over with, before this gets any curioser. I don't like this rabbit hole, and I'm not about to be beheaded by some Red Queen."

Steve's gaze focused on the two joint doors, trying to calculate some idea of where they might lead. "To Infinity, then..."He sighed as they United their strength to force the doors open.

The sight that met them was a gargantuan control room. The twinkle of the mechanisms looked like stars in the night sky, small points of light in the inky blackness of the universe.

Monitors showing profits, videos of commercials for cruises, outlet stores, movie trailers, and knickknacks at exorbitant prices. A gritty voice came over a distant speaker. "Capital is through the roof, all our new pilots are greenlit, and demand is rising. We shall have them all, soon."

"Heehee! Excellent! And the parks?"

"Profit is at an all time high, and we've seen record success with the olfactory hypnosis."

A sickeningly familiar voice tore through the darkness, high-pitched and forcefully recalling to their minds memories of simple curiosity. Adventure. A time when things were what they said they were. What they appeared to be. When no one needed to question it.

Back when a laugh, or a talking animal was enough to escape from any heartbreak. When a song stayed playing in your head on a loop...so persistent that unless one sang along to it, it was enough to drive them mad.

"It looks like it really IS a Small World, after all. Two naughty children ought not wander away. It could spell trouble."

Turning, the figure stepped out of the shadows.

No. It couldn't be.

"Oh boy, oh boy! Looks like you've made it to the end of our game!"

Those iconic ears taunted them. Black as the void, only slightly smaller than his head. That was the symbol they'd kept seeing. The ears of a malevolent rodent.

Mickey Mouse.

Steve shook his head violently. "This isn't real! It can't be! This has to be a nightmare!"

"D'aww shucks! It's not even Christmas yet!" Mickey's giggle was as pleasant sounding as it had always been.

Natasha raised her gun. "Put your hands in the air, Mouse!"

Another laugh echoed as Mickey came forward with his arms spread, as if beckoning for a hug. "It's actually kinda funny how you think you can do anything to stop me."

With the wave of the mascot's arm, the gun flew from her hand. Clattering across the marble floor, it landed halfway to the wall. Lunging for it, Natasha found herself suspended in midair. Wriggling, she grunted as she realized she was unable to move.

Steve prepared to launch his shield, but was similarly held back by an otherworldly force. "Why? Why are you hiding out at a HYDRA base? None of this makes sense."

Mickey leisurely strolled up to lean in for a better look at the Super Soldier. "Silly boy! Who do you think started this whole operation? Red Skull? The Führer? Puppets. I'm actually quite fond of puppet shows!"

As both heroes struggled in vain to escape the unseen hold preventing them from moving.

Steve let out a roar as he used every ounce of strength in his body. "How are you doing this? Sorcery? Evil science?"

Mickey laughed and gave him a tight hug. "I can do anything I want! I OWN you!"

Fighting against the force that paralyzed him, Steve put forth a heroic effort, but to no avail. "What do you mean, you OWN us?"

"I own your copyright. I own the company that sketched you into existence. I own the very CONCEPT of you. And soon, I'll own everything there is."

"But WHY?! Even in my time...you represented happiness and wonder! You stood for creativity and possibility! You made us believe anything was possible with faith, trust..."

"And pixie dust? I still AM all that...after all, a dream is a wish your heart makes! And before long, everyone will be happy. Everyone will laugh and remember. Soon, the whole world will live HAPPILY EVER AFTER!" His laugh distorted, his voice taking on a deeper note of malice. "And here you thought fighting Nazis was bad..."

Then, a crackle came over the PA system, and every monitor switched to a black and white slide with Mickey's face. An old recording began playing.

"Who's the leader of the club...that's made for you and me...M-I-C...K-E-Y...M...O...U...S...E..."

Then, everything went black.

END


End file.
